


I'm Sitting Out Dances On The Wall, Trying To Forget Everything That Isn't You

by alexxxford



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Time, High School, Hurt Stiles, M/M, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content, Slash, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-20
Updated: 2013-11-20
Packaged: 2018-01-02 04:56:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1052769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexxxford/pseuds/alexxxford
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Derek leaves town, leaving Stiles depressed and drinking copious amounts of Jack Daniels and attempting to go to the school dance alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Sitting Out Dances On The Wall, Trying To Forget Everything That Isn't You

**Author's Note:**

> Ficlet based on: Fall Out Boy - 7th Heaven  
> Just because I was listening to it yesterday and the lyrics basically wrote this fic for me.
> 
> Disclaimer: Depression/ Underage Drinking - Could be triggering.  
> I don't own these characters. I didn't write these lyrics, blah blah blah
> 
> Enjoy! :)

_I'm sleeping my way out of this one_  
With anyone who will lie down  
I'll be stuck fixated on one star  
When the world is crashing down  
  
I keep telling myself  
I keep telling myself  
I'm not the desperate type  
But you've got me looking in through blinds  
I keep telling myself  
I keep telling myself  
I'm not the desperate type  
  
I’m sitting out dances on the wall  
Trying to forget everything that isn't you  
I'm not going home alone  
Cause I don't do too well on my own  
I’m sitting out dances on the wall  
Trying to forget everything that isn't you  
I'm not going home alone  
Cause I don't do too well on my own  
  
The only thing worse than not knowing  
Is you thinking that I don't know  
I'm having another episode  
I just need a stronger dose  
  
  


  
“Smile!”

The blinding flash of Scott’s mothers camera perpetuating the moment where Stiles got to go to the winter formal alone, when all his friends had dates. He was fifth wheeling _to the extreme._

“Er, Stiles.. maybe you could come here for a minute, you know, just so I can get one of the couples?” She smiles sweetly as she asks but its still utterly humiliating. Stiles gets out the way as quickly as possible, cheeks burning with embarrassment.  
He didn’t even want to go to this damn dance. He’d got a new Tarantino box-set in town for 10 bucks and had managed to convince the nearly blind woman who he’d observed worked in the off-license Wednesday afternoons, that he was 21 and thus had a bottle of Jack. With his new Batman onesie he had had the perfect evening all planned..

But Scott had convinced him otherwise.

_“You can’t sit at home! Dude this is our last ever winter formal! It’s more embarrassing not going than going alone! Fly stag. There’s plenty of.. nice girls at Beacon Hills..”_

They were lame arguments but somehow they’d worked. So here he was, piling into the back of Jacksons Porsche that really barely qualified for a four seater, let alone 5. And yeah, he was in the middle, between Allison and Scott, and he wanted to be anywhere but here.

Owning a Carrera 5 apparently meant that speed limits didn’t apply to you.. and yeah maybe he shouldn’t have drunk half the bottle of Jack before subjecting himself to Jacksons driving, he should really know better.. but half a bottle of jack didn’t touch him the way it used to, even though 80mph with the windows down felt like flying..

They all pile out of the car. Stiles trips a little as he does, and for once being clumsy works to his advantage and no one bats an eyelash.

The dance is some ‘Winter Wonderland’. Fake snow is everywhere, the windows are sprayed with frost and blue and shit drapes hand from the ceiling, glittering snowflakes scattered throughout.

Jackson takes Lydia’s hand and pulls her straight towards the floor. She threw a sympathetic look over her shoulder which just rubbed everything in a little bit more.

Scott slips his arm around Allison, giving her an affectionate squeeze, then looks over to his best friend. “You wanna come dance with us? We can dance as a group right? We can help you find _that_ girl”

But Stiles shakes his head, actually desperate by now to get away from the four of them.

He finds a bench at the far end of the hall. A bench. _The_ bench. A girl with those full face braces. A boy who doesn’t appear to have showered since they started their senior year. A couple of goths.. Yeah, this was _the_ bench for sure. And he was on it.

 _The_ girl.

**  
For a long time he had been sure that Lydia was that girl. And when her and Stiles had separated last year, he’d been almost sure he could get her to see how right he was for her..  
But the truth was, that even with Jackson out of the picture, she didn’t want him. She probably never would.  
She’d moved on quickly; dating a string of attractive and intelligent men. She was never alone for more than a week or so. But Stiles didn’t find anyone.

He’d withdrawn into himself. He’d began drinking and working out, which was probably a very odd combination but it just seemed to be what worked for him.

It became a routine. Whenever it got too much, whenever it became too painfully obvious that everyone around him was in love, hell even his dad was dating, every was together except for him, who was painfully, hopelessly, and irreparably  alone. Forever. When that became all too obvious, he’d run down to ‘Martha’s drinks box’ at the edge of town, make sure ‘Martha’ was serving (she’d inherited the store from her father John when she was 25. That was in the 50’s..) and get a bottle of whiskey. He’d then go to the woods for some peace, drink the bottle, well, half of it. Then run. Hard and fast. And loose himself. Loose his mind, escape from everything that had happened in the last two years, because how could anyone survive that? He knew so much that no one else would ever know, and he’d seen way more than he had capacity to make sense off and he seemed to be the only one who had no one to share that with. Sure, he had Scott, and sure, Scott tried to be a good friend, but he was always so.. preoccupied…  
  
**  
“I’m sorry”

It’s Scott’s voice that wakes him from his daydream, making him jump and nearly slip from the bench.

“Hey alright?” his friend thumps him on the back in a friendly way, somehow managing to steady him. But he’s got it, that look in his eyes, that sympathy, they all seem to look at him with that look now..

“Yeah. Yeah of corse” he lies. “Are you?” he asks, rubbing his blurry eyes and trying to remember social protocol.

“Yeah.. look Stiles, I am sorry. Really” he’s trying to make eye contact but Stiles just stares ahead, looking out at the dance floor but Scott knows he’s not seeing what everyone else is. He’s deep within his own head.

“Sorry? Pft, what are you sorry for?” he says flatly.

“I’m sorry for dragging you to this dance. I’m sorry… that I’m with Allison, and I’m sorry you have no one to be here with… no. I’m sorry the person you want to be here isn-.. can’t be”

There’s a long silence then, and Stiles shivers. Scott’s noticed how thin he looks now. He’s lost weight. He looks paler too, but maybe it’s just the dark shadows under his eyes…

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault. It’s mine..” he mumbles, casting his eyes down to the floor.

“Don’t say that, how’s it your fault?”

“I fell for him” Stiles says in a resigned way. Scott resists the urge interject, although he’s known about Stiles position for a while, and he knows Stiles knows he knows, they’ve never spoken about it. Stiles never brought it up, so it never felt right for him to. This was the first time they’d ever really acknowledged it.  
“Out of.. out of all the damn people” Stiles growls. “Out of all the damn people, I had to fall for him. And he had to leave..”

Scott laughs bitterly. “To be fair, I really don’t care.. which.. team you bat for. But of all the guys to pick, D-“

“It’s not because he’s a guy.” Stiles cuts him off sharply. “Hell, I don’t look at any other guys that way. _I can’t look at anyone that way now._ It’s just.. him”

  
**  
It was only a matter of time before Stiles ran into Derek in the woods. The older man was very surprised to find him running through the forest in only a tshirt at 11:30 in late September when it had already turned cold. He was even more surprised when he realized the boy was drunk.

Stiles had refused any help from Derek. Eventually telling him to fuck off. So Derek had left him. But he’d noticed the same thing next week. Then twice the week after.  
One night Stiles had stopped, not far from the house. He hadn’t drunk more than usual.. he had skipped dinner though. And lunch.. He was dizzy and sick and distressed and something about it had been too much for Derek and he wouldn’t take no, or ‘fuck off’ as an answer this time.

The next Wednesday Stiles was surprised to find Derek stood outside Martha’s. Leaning casually against the wall in long grey running shorts and a black vest and blocking his entry to the liqueur store.

There had been a silent understanding between the two of them. From that day on, Stiles had drunk less, and run more, and now, not alone.

That was until three weeks ago.

_“I have to go out of town for a bit. There’s trouble up north. A.. dispute, between packs. I’m going to try and settle things down” Derek had told them one night._

_“I can come?” Scott had offered eagerly, but Derek had held his hand up immediately._

_“No. I will be going alone. You have school.”_

_“When will you be back?” Stiles had an awful feeling pooling in the pit of his stomach. It had started as soon as Derek had invited them over and had steadily got worse as the evening had progressed._

_Derek couldn’t make eye contact. “A week. Two at the most.”_

_The rest of the night was a blur. Stiles couldn’t recall anything anyone had said from that point on. Only Derek’s last words to him. “Look after yourself. I’ll be back”._  
  


**  
It’s the shrill beep of Scott’s phone that disturbs him this time. Scott smiles when he sees the text, _probably Allison,_  tapping something back and sliding the dated piece of technology back into his pocket and turning to his friend.  
 _  
_“Look, just come and dance with us, try and enjoy yourself!” Scott enthused, being way too perky as usual.

“I’ll pass, thanks”

“5 minutes okay?” Scott gets up and turns to face him, offering a hand to pull him up. “5 minutes, and if you’re still not having fun… I’ll come outside with you and we can finish that bottle of Jack together. Deal?”

Stiles grumbles something incoherent about _‘definitleywillnotbehavingfun’_ and reluctantly eases himself off the bench.

Nearly fifteen minutes later, Stiles unsurprisingly still isn’t having fun, and Scoot surprisingly actually is heading out into the crisp winter dark with him. They both instinctively pull their suit jackets around their bodies and head off to the bleachers.

There’s a couple literally shagging at the far end. Scott laughs and sits as far away from them as possible.

Stiles pulls the bottle out from somewhere in his jackets, unscrews the cap, and takes three long gulps before shuddering it and passing it to Scoot who takes one far less enthusiastic sip and hands it back.

  
“Dude, you’re drinking a lot right now” Scott mentions cautiously.

“The more I drink, the less I think” Stiles rhythms miserably. He sighs, wringing out is hands nervously. “It’s like.. the world is crashing down, and I’m just.. fixated on him. Like, nothing else matters right now. I.. I don’t understand why..”

Scott rests his hand between his best friends shoulder blades, patting gently. “Stiles, that’s love”

He freezes, his hands are shaking, nearly dropping the bottle. “I.. no. I can’t be. Not with him. … _Fuck.”_  He pulls the nearly empty bottle back up to his lips and begins to finish it with way too much ease.

“ _Sitting out dances on the wall? That’s pretty sad?”_

Stiles whole body goes rigid again, his spine straightening, his eyes widening and he nearly jokes around the whisky, spluttering golden liquid, letting it roll down his chin.

Derek’s hand is warm as he reaches out tentatively and wipes the drink from his face, licking his fingers slowly.  
Stiles is speechless. The empty bottle drops from his hands but Derek has caught it before it has time to shatter. He places it down gently on the bench, smiling at Scott who slinks off back to the dance.

He sits down the other side of Stiles, a foot away, and turns to face him. “Everything okay? It doesn’t look okay. I told you to look after yourself”

Stiles mouth opens and shuts but no sound comes out. He can’t explain why he’s so surprised. Three weeks. It wasn’t that long. But three weeks with no contact. No texts or calls. He’d imagined the worst, convinced himself of it. But here he was.. in the flesh.. alive and well. Well, Derek alive.

Suddenly anger flushes over him, his fists balling and his blood feels like it’s beginning to pump again for the first time in months and he wants to hit him. “You left! You said you’d be gone a week and you were gone three and you couldn’t call!” he’s shouting and Derek looks taken aback.

“I.. I didn’t think.. I got held up. It was worse than I thought- “

“Liar!” Stiles spits.

“No I swear. The conflict.. we fought for nearly 13 days. I had to recuperate before running home and I just thought.. the pack is so strong. You’re doing so well, all I do is bring trouble for you lot. The people that attack us, they’re always after me. I put you in more danger than you need and Scott has got control of himself now so he can protect you guys if you needed it and-“

Just being around Derek Stiles was beginning to feel more like himself, and the anger had gotten so strong he was launching himself at Derek with his fist balled. But Stiles at full strength was no match for the alpha. Stiles drunk and tired and hungry and all kinds of emotionally fucked up, well it was laugh able how pathetic his attempt was. Derek caught his fist in his hand without so much as flinching. He held it for a while, stroking his thumb across Stiles knuckles soothingly.

“Stiles I swear. I’m sorry”

Stile rips his hands away. “No no, that’s total fucking bullshit. ‘We’re stronger as a pack’. Who always said that? _You!_ We need you! I need you..” his anger dissipates as quickly as it had built. He lets out a long sigh and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He closes his eyes for a moment, then the words are spilling from his lips like a tap and he can’t stop himself.

“When Lydia goes back to Jacksons, and Scott takes Allison home, I go home alone. My dad’s out on a date. I have no one. Nothing. I have all these… emotions. Buzzing around my brain, I feel like I’m going to explode. And you can’t tell anyone about this shit. When I wake up at 3am screaming because I’m dreaming about some fucked up crap we’ve been dealing with, I can’t talk to my dad about it. I… I needed you. I don’t care in.. what _capacity_ that is. If it’s just a text, just to say whoa.. at least I know you’re on the other end, and you know what that whoa’s about. Even if it’s just one sided, hell, I’m pretty used to one sided relationships. I just.. I can’t make sense of all this alone”

He’s almost out of breath when he finishes into a drawn out silence. Derek doesn’t speak for a while, and he won’t look at Stiles, and Stiles is afraid he’s just totally freaked him out, and great, maybe he’ll leave for good now. But eventually Derek speaks, eyes still cast out across the dark lacrosse pitch.

“Capacity?”

Stiles laughs. It’s not even funny, he’d just been expecting something much worse. He’s so relieved and maybe so drunk that he actually tries to explain. All his cards are laid out tonight. Because hell, it can’t get any worse.

“I.. I can’t explain my feelings. It’s like.. I don’t know why I feel _physical_ pain when you’re away. My chest.. Scotts says its love. I don’t think I know what ‘love’ it though. All I know is that I’ll always think about you differently to my other friends. And, no pressure, as I said, one sided is kind of my th-“

“I like you as more than a friend” Derek suddenly blurts, almost accidently. The corner of his mouth is twitching awkwardly and Stiles can tell from his side profile he’s frowning.

“Huh?”

The frown deepens. “I er.. I never thought of you the same as the rest of the pack.. er.. you’re..”

It’s actually painful to watch the older man try and word his feelings. Stiles thought he was bad! He chuckles. “I forgot, Mr. Wolf can’t talk about his feelings. That a warewolf thing? No can’t be because Scott wont shut up about his damned feelings-“

“Stiles! Shut up! We are not going to have some soppy, lovey-dovey, rom-com moment. That’s just not going to happen okay. I… you know how I feel. I make it very obvious. Without me saying, you need to know-“

It’s the most gruff and aggressive declaration of love probably in and eternity of declarations of love and Stiles can wonder what Derek knows about rom-coms but he’s not, he’s launching at him again, and this time he does manage to take him by complete surprise, his hands do connect with his face, one on each cheek, palms flat, and his lips smash against his more-than-friends with a violent force.

Derek freezes at first, but soon his lips are moving over Stiles and their setting a heavy rhythm to devour each other to. It’s almost desperate the way Stiles is clinging to him, winding his hands into Derek’s soft mauve tshirt while Derek’s hand grab at him, the back of his head, his arse, everything, just pulling him closer, too close. So Stiles is climbing on top of him and Derek is lying back on the bench, his legs falling one either side with Stiles between, where he wants him.

In the back of his mind Stiles is thinking, somehow yes he’s still thinking, even now’ that this isn’t how he’d pictured their first kiss. And he’d pictured it many times. He should have known it would never be soft and romantic with Derek.

He can feel Derek’s hips rucking up to meet his, forcing more friction between them. He grunts when Stiles moves, mirroring him. This spurs him on, so he does it again, getting the same reaction.

Stiles left hand is shaking as it slides down Derek’s body, across his collar bone, his nipple, down his abs, washboard abs, and to the bulge trying to break free from his jeans. Stiles had seen it before, when Derek had had to stay over due to being Beacon Hills most wanted. Apparently, Derek woke up horny..  
He want sure what to do, he’d had very little sexual experience in his short life, and absolutely none with another man, but he’d heard someone say before how easy it must be to be gay, because you know how to please the other person..

He begins to rub and gently squeeze Derek and apparently it’s the right thing to do because Derek rips his lips away, throwing his head back and moaning loudly. The white of the moon illuminates his face and Stiles can’t believe how beautiful he looks. Even in this state, coming undone before him, he seemed so powerful.. and Stiles was harder than he’d ever been. Pure adrenaline poured through his body when Derek’s eyes fell open. They were glassy and distant and Stiles was pretty sure he’d never seen that look in his eyes. He’d never seen that look in anyone’s eyes directed at him. It was the way Scott looked at Allison.

“Don’t stop” he pants.

Stiles smiles wickedly, and idea occurs to him, too good to pass up. “Promise you won’t leave again”

Derek’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “I.. if you don’t want me to..”

“I won’t. Now promise” Stiles hand moves slowly again between Derek’s legs, teasing him.

“Promise” he throws his head back and closes his eyes. “I promise Stiles” he pants. “I’ll never leave you”

 

_They didn’t have their first time on the bleachers. Scott and Allison got worried about how long they’d been and had decided it was a good idea to go looking for them… Derek still hadn’t forgiven them.  
Stiles was secretly grateful though. It meant he got to arrange their first time. Rush home early from school. Change his sheets, clear away his action figures, dig out his old Fall Out Boy CD and to him, it’s romantic. To him it’s perfect._


End file.
